A Lifetime Is Just Too Long
by FromHereToThere
Summary: Tired of the old ‘I’ll love you forever’? This is a story against the odds. Hermione has loved. And loved again. And again. Because loving only one person for a lifetime is just too long. CHAP 3 IS UP! R&R!
1. Obvious Rule About Life n1

**Disclaimer:** if I were JK Rowling, I would certainly be rewriting OotP so that Sirius wouldn't die. If I were making any money out of this, I'd probably be out to buy something. Is that clear enough?

**Summary:** Tired of the old 'I'll love you forever'? This is a story against the odds. Hermione has loved. And loved again. And again. Because loving one person for a lifetime is just too long.

**Warning:** This is NOT your typical romance story, you have been warned. On with the story then, and I hope you like it. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, or any reviews for that matters. Flames are fine too. Am that desperate for feedback, I know. Enjoy!

* * *

_A Lifetime Is Just Too Long_

_By: FromHereToThere_

* * *

The phone rang, loud and clear in the apartment. Situated in the middle of London, this home was a real blessing, as it was set in front of the Leaky Cauldron, a good spot for a muggle-born witch such as Hermione Granger. 

'Wonder who's calling me on the phone' Hermione thought to herself. She took the child from her lap and placed him on the floor, running straight to the phone. She was of that sort of people who nearly jump onto the receiver whenever it rang, and absolutely hated to miss a call.

"Hello?" she asked, bringing up the receiver to her hear.

"Hey it's me. I was wondering, when I could come pick up Arthur? Because my boss won't let me go until I finish those papers and it's going to take me a bloody long time… I won't be out of here before 5 or 6, probably 6"

She sighed, her schedule for the day suddenly fell apart in way too many little pieces. Quick-witted as she had always been, she immediately thought of an alternative to her new problem.

"Seamus… I have plans already made for this afternoon, I cannot cancel them. I guess you'll have to pick him up at Harry's place then, since he's coming in an hour to get Paul. I can just ask him to take Artie with him at the same time, I'm sure he won't mind," she replied.

After a few more indications on how to get to Harry's house through the Muggle way, Hermione hanged up the phone. She let herself fall onto the couch, sighing deeply. That had been a close call, she couldn't miss that meeting with her editor or else she would have been killed, or at least, tortured to no end.

Accompanied by screams, two red headed toddlers aged of 3 years came running –and stumbling– to her. Their little pudgy arms raised, in delight at the sight of their mother they had just left a few minutes ago and already missed. They made there way to where she was sitting.

"Mommy! Mommy!" they both yelled in unison, they climbed onto the couch with difficulty, and, happily giggling from having mounted this obstacle, they encircled their mother's waist, one on each side of her.

"Mommy when is Daddy coming?" the little boy asked.

Hermione glanced at her watch and said: "Well he should be here now, but you know your father, honey, he'll probably be here in an hour. If we're lucky"

She patted the boy's head. He looked at her with his wide blue eyes.

"You look so much like your father at times it's quite peculiar Damien. I at least hope you won't end up following his path…" she said that last part to herself, rolling her eyes at the thought.

"Do I look like Daddy too Mommy?" the little girl asked. She too opened bright blue eyes and stared in anticipation at her mother. Who could resist such a sweet little thing?

"Yes you do Eve, you both do," she smiled, kissing both of them on the top of their heads, while hugging them closer to her.

Closing her eyes, she wondered… how had it started again? Oh yes… She loved to replay these years in her head. They had been the best in her life, maybe even better than Hogwarts.

* * *

Harry and Hermione, both 17 at that time, were studying in the Gryffindor Common room. Ron was in the Hospital Wing, he had been hit by a bludger at the last Quidditch game, and was in a very bad mood about not being able to play his favorite sport for a while. Tired of listening him rent, his friends had decided to visit him as little as possible, and were doing their homework instead. 

"Of course you cannot put that in your essay, it's scandalous!" Hermione said, sounding clearly alarmed. "How the thought even crossed your mind is beyond me, Harry…" she trailed off, raising a quizzical eyebrow at him.

He grinned at her, his deep green eyes glittering at her. "What, you think McGonagall is not going to like this? Can I put it in the essay Snape asked us to do then? You think he'll like it better maybe?"

Hermione paled at his words. Harry grinned even wider. She really was gullible. How he loved making fun of Hermione at her own expense… How he loved her. It was after he had defeated Voldemort at the end of his sixth year that he had started to notice things in a wider range.

Lots of things. Such as Cho just being a plain ordinary girl, maybe pretty but nothing more. How Parvati maybe was only a façade and had no depth at all. How Ron could be so close-minded about things sometimes. How Malfoy and Zabini were not that bad, despite the fact that they were in Slytherin. How Hermione had always been here for her.

That last thought was what had triggered it. The 'Hermione is not only your best friend she is also a GIRL' reflection. Maybe she wasn't an attractive girl, but she was so fun to be around with, at least when you talked to her you knew it wasn't going to end up being a conversation about cosmetics or cute puppies.

But Harry always had been shy. It had been around 6 months now that he had discovered his feelings for Hermione, and still he had never told anyone about it. No one. Not even Ron. He used to blush whenever he touched her hand. He used to stutter when he asked her something. Now he had overcome that. The summer had made him more daring.

He exploded in a fit of laughter, a puzzled Hermione staring at him.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You're so naïve, 'Mione, I can't believe you actually thought I was going to put that in my essay!" he whipped a tear from his eye, still chuckling a bit.

She humpfed at him, her nose in the air, and crossed her arms, not looking at him. Smiling, Harry put on hand on her shoulder and the other one to her cheek, making her look straight into his green orbs. His smile faded.

"I was just kidding," he said on a strangely serious tone. Very gently and slowly, he began caressing the smooth skin at her collarbone. He was immersed in that movement for a few seconds, before finally snapping out of it, and looking straight into her eyes.

"Harry?" she whispered, not knowing what else to say. This was all so new to her. What was she supposed to be doing? Slapping him for doing that? Or something else… No book could have given her that answer.

He slid the hand that was resting on her cheek so that that it rest behind her neck, and his other one down to her shoulder. Unconsciously he had neared his face from hers, their nose were only millimeters apart. "Hermione," he murmured, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent.

Not being able to resist this anymore, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. His eyes shot wide open at this as he smiled against her lips, kissing her back softly. He pulled her into his lap, and slipped his arms around her tiny waist.

* * *

"Mom! I need help with my homework, I don't understand this stuff!" Paul, a nine years old boy, yelled from his room, his voice sounding clearly annoyed. 

Hermione snapped back from her reminiscing. She got up and took little Damien and Eve by their hands, guiding them to their room. "You stay here and play, okay? We'll go down to the park if Daddy isn't here in 15 minutes!" she said. The toddlers cheered and started to play a game while waiting.

Hermione left the door opened and crossed the hallway, entering her eldest son's room. The said room was quite messy. Dirty laundry was scattered all over the floor, the bed was undone, and a few books lay opened here and there. Over to the desk, there were bunches of papers everywhere, and the only thing that helped people to know the color of this piece of furniture was that Paul hadn't managed to put anything on the desk's drawers –yet.

Gazing at the figure of her son crouched over his paper, a pencil in his hand, and a scowl of incomprehension over his features, she smiled slightly. 'Paul… he is such a handsome kid,' she thought. He had his father's green eyes but he had his mother's hair, wavy honey brown hair that he kept long in a low ponytail. He was a smart kid too, but maybe a bit too distracted at times for her own taste. 'Tsk, Quiddicth and girls, that's all he ever thinks about…' she sometimes mumbled under her breath.

Paul almost slammed the pencil onto his desk and shot his head back in frustration, a growl escaping from his lips. "Mom… I hate this stuff! I never understand anything. Why do I have to go to a Muggle's school anyways? I'm never going to use Math in Hogwarts as far as I'm concerned…" he said, sighing.

"Well, you will find Math quite useful once you start Arithmancy," Hermione answered pointedly. "I guess however that you aren't going to get any work done now, as I can see you're way too excited about seeing your dad…"

Paul grinned and nodded: "He is going to make me practice my flying! After all, I'm entering Hogwarts in only 2 years and I need to live up to my reputation and be a Quidditch's seeker for the Gryffindor team, right?"

"Excuse me young man? What did you say?" she said on a falsely angry tone. She got up and wrapped her arms around her son's shoulders, balancing him right and left, smiling. "You are going to live up to MY reputation as well, meaning being at the top of your class. All your classes, right?" she laughed.

Her son pouted and quickly laughed as well. "I guess so Mom…"

"What do you mean 'guess so'? I was awaiting for a 'of course Mom, I'll do my best Mom, and even have better OWLs and NEWTs scores than you Mom!' "

Before Paul could retort anything to that, a 'POP' was heard inside the apartment. More specifically inside Damien and Eve's room. A resigned look on her face, Hermione let go of her son and marched reluctantly towards her twins' room.

"Hallo there Hermione!" said a grinning Fred, holding one toddler in each arm.

"Daddy, Daddy! Mommy said I looked like you!" said little Eve, wiggling in her father's arms, smiling broadly.

"Me too me too!!" added a very excited Damien.

"Do you, now?" he asked them as he put his offspring down on the ground. Fred Weasley advanced towards Hermione, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. "Looking good honey!"

"Fred I told you to stop calling me honey," she said in frustration.

He grinned, "Sorry" he said, not sounding sorry at all.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder what made me date you Fred…" she muttered more to herself than him. Passing her hand through her wild hair, she blinked a couple of times before looking at him straight in the eyes again.

"Well, I guess it must have been my sparkling intelligence, also my well-known charisma, and of course, my astonishing looks," he said, flashing her one of his dazzling white smiles. She snorted and playfully hit him on the shoulder. "You can also add to the list your inexistent timing. You're almost half an hour late!"

"True, but at least it's better than other times, right?"

"Well, I did tell the time when you arrived 3 hours late that I'd hex you to another planet if you couldn't manage to show up a bit more on time… Guess that it convinced you, didn't it?" she smiled sweetly at him, her eyes twinkling with mischievousness.

"I think George and I have rubbed off on you…! Look at this, the great Hermione Granger, best student to have graduated from Hogwarts in more then a century, and there she goes threatening to curse her ex-husband! I wonder who'd ever have thought it could have happened… So yes it DID convince me!" Fred replied, his eyes glittering with contained laughter.

Hermione grinned triumphantly.

* * *

Harry Potter walked over to the door of his house, situated in the London countryside. After Sirius' death, he had sold number 12 Grimauld place, and had waited to get out of Hogwarts before buying his own house. A broom in one hand and an attaché-case in the other, the 19 years old Quidditch star walked into his home. As he entered he breathed in the fresh scent of clean laundry mixed with the sweet smell of old books. 

"Hermione?" he asked to no one in particular, putting his broom against the wall and his briefcase next to it. He looked around and wondered where his wife could be. He smiled at this. His wife, Hermione. How he loved the sound of that. Hermione Potter. Hermione.

He remembered when he had asked her after their Hogwarts graduation, asked her to marry him of course. It had turned into something quite memorable: he was so scared that he took Ron to practice his speech, and Hermione had walked in on them rehearsing, her honey eyes wide as plates. He smiled as he remembered this.

"Hermione?" he was now getting quite worried. Usually when he'd get home, she would be working on her papers (due in a month knowing her), or reading in the couch in the living. However, today she wasn't at her desk of anywhere in the room. Harry took a quick glance in the kitchen, no one. He ran upstairs, and found light in the bathroom. He breathed in a deep sigh of relief.

"Harry," a faint whisper was heard. He walked into the bathroom. Hermione was sitting on the floor, hidden between the toilet and the bathtub. Her knees were raised up to her chest, and she obviously had been crying, tear strains were drawn on her cheeks, haphazardly, as if made by an unsure pen.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he kneeled in front of her and collected her tiny frame in his arms. "Hermione, what is it? What's wrong?" he whispered to her, unsure of what to say.

She sobbed and indicated in a swift wave of the hand a nearby pregnancy test. Pregnancy test??? Harry's eyes shot wide open, and he quickly picked up the tube, his hands trembling in fear, or was it excitement? "What does blue mean?" he asked, worry written all over his features.

She breathed in hard, as if it was painful to her: "Positive"

Harry couldn't help it, he started to smile, and then grinned as if his life depended on it. He hugged Hermione closer to him and, tears forming in his eyes, he said: "It's wonderful… We're going to be parents!"

However this did not seem to fit Hermione. She got up and imposed her frame on his still crouching figure. "EXCUSE ME???" she yelled so loud the neighbors could have probably heard her, if there had been any, "You're not the one carrying the child here! I have exams in a couple of months, I'm in college Harry! I can't…" she ended, at a loss of words.

Running a hand through her hair, she watched Harry get up on his feet and step in front of her. "Hermione, your exams are in one month. That means you'll have time to take them way before you even start showing. Plus you can always make a potion against morning sickness and other stuff that might prevent you from studying correctly… right?" he replied, hope in his eyes.

She sighed, and whipped the strains off her cheeks with both hands. She looked at him straight in the eyes. "What will I do next Harry? That will give me a diploma for only… wait a second," she paused, thinking.

Harry's smile grew wider, "Since you've been taking two courses at once for two years, that means you're having your degree in June. You can get any job you want with that, 'Mione! Who wouldn't want you? Smartest witch in Hogwarts? You're bond to get a job as soon as you get out of college!" he exclaimed.

Hermione rested her back on the sink, her hands covering her eyes. She stayed in this position for a second before suddenly throwing herself at Harry, her arms wrapping around his neck. "We're going to be parents!" she squealed joyfully at him.

* * *

**Author's note:** thank you all for reading this! I hope you liked it. If in any case you didn't, I'd like to know why. I'd like also to get your impressions on this story, I told you it wasn't a typical romance story didn't I? Further explanation shall be given in the next chapter though! 

So please stay tuned and review, of course! '

_-FromHereToThere-_


	2. Obvious Rule About Life n2

**Disclaimer:** for Christmas, I asked a lot of thing to Santa. Such as Paul McCartney, peace in the world and JK Rowling's author rights over HP. However, I think my letter got lost on the way, as I didn't get any of the things I wanted. Pity, really.

**Summary:** Tired of the old 'I'll love you forever'? This is a story against the odds. Hermione has loved. And loved again. And again. Because loving one person for a lifetime is just too long.

**Warning:** like I already told you in the first chapter, and as you have probably read in there too, this is not your usual love story. Thou hast been warned.

* * *

_A Lifetime Is Just Too Long_

_By: FromHereToThere_

_

* * *

Chapter 2: Obvious rule about life 2_

Being pregnant at 19, soon to be 20, hadn't been one of the first choices in Hermione's to-do-list. Still, she did keep it. Harry had wanted this child more than anything else. He hadn't had a family, therefore it was normal that he had been so keen in being part of one. Plus, she hadn't minded a child, she had been happy to have one with the man she loved.

"Hermione, am taking Paul to practice today!" Harry yelled as he exited their house, his son on his shoulders.

Hermione sighed deeply while literally falling on the couch behind her.

Things were different now, things had changed between Harry and her and she knew it. Her pregnancy had gone well, and Paul was now a happy 2-year old. He had Harry's green eyes and Hermione's hair (to everyone's despair, even his own mother). Harry often took Paul to practice with him, where he would sit on the bench and play with the Quaffle and occasionally mounted on a broom with his father.

At now 21, Harry and Hermione had been married for a couple of years, and had fallen into a routine. To Hermione, this was a boring old routine. However, Harry liked his routine. He had never lived a NORMAL life, therefore this was the epitome of existence for him.

That fateful day, Hermione couldn't manage to put down one single line. She was now writing schoolbooks, that successfully got on Hogwarts' list. She usually enjoyed re-reading her unfinished works, while correcting eventual mistakes and such. But today, she did not open one. She had made a decision. A decision that would be the beginning of… something else.

Harry came home that night, and things went the way they usually did. They ate dinner, put Paul to bed, and after that, Hermione and Harry rested on their bed, she was reading, he was searching for new Quidditch strategies due to the up-coming World Cup.

Hermione glanced at Harry, he was deeply concentrated on what he was doing. She gritted her teeth.

'WHAM!' 

She slammed her book shut so hard it made the lamps shake. "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!" she yelled in frustration. She threw her legs over the bed and banged her book on the bed. "Harry, this can't go on any longer, we need to talk," she said on a slightly calmer tone, crossing her arms.

Harry had jumped up at her sudden outburst, but, being a man, he had no clue what his wife was feeling at the moment.

"Are you alright honey?"

"Don't call me honey! I hate it and you know it!" she shouted, throwing her arms up in the air.

Harry took his papers and put them on his bedside table. He crossed his fingers over his lap in a rather Dumbledore-like sort of way. "Yes?"

"See! See how you're acting! I can't believe you! How can we live like this Harry? Where has everything gone, where has the passion gone?" she cried out in despair.

Suddenly, Harry looked very embarrassed. He blushed slightly.

"Hermione… are you pregnant again?"

"ARGH!" she yelled, taking fistful of her hair and pulling on it in such a manner it seemed very painful. 

Regaining her composure, she passed her hands in her hair, while sitting on the bed next to Harry. "What do you think of our life Harry, tell me, I'd like to know your point of view on this too"

He smiled, "Well, I think we lead a very happy life. Sure there are the occasional arguments here and there, but this happens to every couple."

"Don't you think something is missing?"

"Like what?"

"Like… all the action? The unexpected? The suspense? Harry, face it, we live a _boring_ life. I loved you, but it seems as though you don't care for me anymore. You haven't touched me in months for Merlin's beard!"

Harry looked clearly embarrassed at this, his face went beat-red and he mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said: you just had to ask"

"That is the problem Harry! I don't want to have to ask! I want you to just slam me against the wall or on the kitchen table and make perverted love to me right there!"

"Is that what you _really_ want?" he asked dumbfounded.

"YES! Things like that Harry. That you unexpectedly take me to the restaurant, or a vacation on a remote deserted island, I don't know, but _something_! We've been living the same routine for so long, I feel like I'm forty, and it's definitely _not_ a good feeling," she ended, tears forming in her eyes.

Tears were something Harry was able to deal with. He slid himself closer to her and folded his arms around her petite form, gently kissing the top of her head. He whispered to her, his voice warm with concern, "Hermione… everything will be okay, it's all going to work out"

She sobbed, "I want a divorce".

Harry's eyes shot wide-open. "You want _**WHAT?**_" he yelled at her, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her away from him, as if to get a good look at her face, to see if she might be joking.

However she had never felt to serious in her life. "I want a divorce Harry, I loved you, but the passion has died out, now I… I'm so sorry Harry… I wish we could go on like this, but I'm having such a hard time…" she trailed off, unsure on how to continue.

"But Hermione! I can be that type of man you want me to be! I swear, I'll try!"

She sighed.

"Harry, you've been through a lot of things, I can understand that you want to live a peaceful, quiet life away on the countryside. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Tell me Harry if I'm wrong, but we have been leading a strictly platonic relationship for the last year, and you know it," she narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked down, embarrassed again.

"Yes, I guess"

"You guess?"

"So, okay, we have"

"You consider Ginny as your sister, right? Tell me then, when you think about me, you feel exactly the same as you do when you think of Ginny, don't you?"

He stayed quiet at this.

"Don't you Harry?"

He exploded, his eyes ready to kill: "**YES!** ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"

"Can you stay married to someone you consider your sister Harry? Of course you can't. We had good times as husband and wife, I don't deny it. But… we don't love each other like that anymore. We can't go on like this."

"You've had a lot of time to think this over haven't you?" he asked, his green gaze meeting her brown ones, sadness rushing over him like a bitter salted wave.

She bit her lip thoughtfully for a second, before speaking quietly, "I guess I have. But that doesn't mean I can't stand your presence. I just don't think we should live together anymore. I want to stay your friend Harry, because whatever we have been, we were friends first, and I'll never want to let a friend like you slip away from me," she said, her voice quivering as she finished her sentence.

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair.

"I won't deny it hurts, Hermione. It really does. But I guess you are right. After all, you are always right," he smiled faintly at this, before suddenly realizing something, "what will become of Paul then?"

"We can have him in turns, it's a parental-shift, he would stay two weeks at your place, two weeks at mine. And maybe, if you want to of course, we could spend the vacation time together with him," she said in an almost secretary tone.

Harry laughed joylessly at this. "I can't believe you!" he laughed harder, "You've been plotting this for so long, haven't you?" his laughter sinisterly echoing in the room.

He was crying now, almost hysterically. Hermione, at the sight of him like this, gently pushed his head on her lap, caressing his hair as he drifted off into a perturbed slumber. Tears were running down her cheeks silently has she rested her forehead against his, muttering 'I'm sorry Harry, I'm so sorry' to him, while rocking back and forth.

* * *

"You be good to Daddy, okay, Eve?" she asked the toddler. 

"Okay Mommy…" she answered back sleepily, resting her head against her father's shoulder. She brought her thumb to her mouth and closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

"Damien?" Hermione asked, turning to the other child in Fred's arms.

"Mmmh" the toddler answered. Doing the same as his twin.

"Don't worry 'Mione, they're safe and sound with me," he grinned widely. His eyes twinkling mischievously.

She looked doubtfully at him and said, "Somehow I'm suspicious about the accuracy of this statement. And I have every reason to feel like that about you around other people in general, may they be your own flesh and blood or not. Now off you and no magic while you're still in the Muggle zone remember!"

Still smirking, Fred exited the apartment with great difficulty, he only managed to walk out the door by going sideways through it. A few minutes later after he had left, the doorbell echoed throughout the apartment.

As she did with the phone, Hermione rushed to the door and opened it even before the person could ring a second time around. A tall, rather slim man was standing in front of her. He was gazing happily at her with the most amazing green eyes. "Harry!" she yelled and threw herself in his arms.

"Am glad to see you! Ooof! Have you gained some weight?" he said, smirking. She released him from her hold and hit him playfully on the shoulder. "No I haven't!" she answered, smiling.

She closed the door as he stepped inside. "Harry, you don't mind taking Arthur with you as well as Paul, do you?" she asked hopefully. "See, Seamus is…" she trailed off, her eyes clouding suddenly. Seamus was always a tough subject, she usually didn't bring him up in any conversation. Nor did anyone who knew her well.

Harry patted her on the arm and smiled softly at her. "Don't worry, it's not a problem. You know I love having Arthur around, he is such a nice kid," he finished awkwardly. Looking desperately around to get away from this sticky situation. Fortunately, a young child dressed in robes too big for him by two sizes rushed in the living room.

"DAD!" Paul yelled.

"Yeah!" Harry said back, patting his son on the head.

Hermione smiled joyfully at the father-son reunion. She mouthed a 'I'll go get Arthur' to Harry as she exited the room. She followed the hallway and entered the second door to the right.

"Arthur?"

The shape sprawled on the bed stirred a bit but did not take its eyes off the book it was reading. "Hmm" Arthur answered, turning a page, "is Seamus not coming to get be this week-end either?" the child ask, on a surprisingly serious tone for a kid his age, he looked no more then 6 or 7.

Hermione sighed as she neared her son's bed, sitting next to him. "I told you to call him 'Dad'".

"What if I don't want to? Harry is more my dad then he is"

"Speaking of which, Harry is taking you with him until you dad picks you up a little later" she said, trying to sound a bit more cheerful.

That seemed to get Arthur's attention. He put himself in a sitting position, facing his mother. He had auburn hair falling in his face at random places (due to a homemade haircut, we could assume), and deep brown orbs that sparkled with intelligence. His boyish freckled face broke into a smile.

"Really?"

"Really"

"I should get my stuff then"

"Yes, Harry and Paul are waiting for you in the living room"

At this, Arthur bolted right up and jumped off his bed, falling ungracefully as he did so. Running around the room as if a storm was after him, the child packed in record time.

* * *

"Why are you running Hermione? You know that you're early, _as always_…" 

"If I'm early, how come you're already here?"

"Because I know you too well, you would have been here at 7:30 if I had said the reservation was at 8, so I told you it was at 8:30, and here you are at 8 sharp!" the man exclaimed, obviously amazed at his own wickedness.

"Had I been late, you would have had to wait more than half an hour, you know that right?"

"The point being that you _weren't_ late. Now stop biting my head off and sit down," the man said.

His name was Rupert Shacklebolt, Kingsley Shacklebolt's brother, and Hermione's editor. After hearing from his brother that Hermione had gotten her degree 8 years ago, he had asked her to work for him, pregnant or not. He had been following her every more since Kingsley had told him he knew her, and he was sure she could make a great schoolbook author, a smart witch like herself. And he had been right.

Rupert Shacklebolt was a small black man. He looked frail on the outside, his frizzing gray hair shading his head discreetly. But he was a smart man, his appearance deceived people, so he could afterwards stun them with his impressive intellect. He enjoyed this quite a lot really, making him a bit on the egocentric side at time, but he was still a nice man, if you had wits matching his.

"Who's the guest?" Hermione asked, pointing at the third –unoccupied– sit. Not waiting for the answer, she sat at the chair and took the menu that the waiter was offering her. _'Merci beaucoup. Nous aimerions une carafe d'eau également, s'il vous plaît'_

"It's a person I'd like you to co-author that next book with, the one I talked to you about. And must you always show off your French every time we end up here?" Rupert sulked, falsely upset.

"I could say the same with your Arab every time we go to that Moroccan restaurant, you know," she replied, not looking up at him but scanning attentively through the menu instead.

However, Rupert did not hear her answer, he had just gotten up to meet the person Hermione was supposed to write this 7th year Defense Against the Dark Arts book with. He walked stealthily towards the man who had just arrived and gave him a quiet smile, while shaking his hand in an oddly ceremonious manner. "Mr. Malfoy! How lovely to see you!"

Hermione's eyes widened as she turned her head slowly to face the person that had just arrived. And who had happened to be none other than her old arch-nemesis. No matter how delightful this restaurant was, she could already feel the shudder trailing up her spine at the upcoming bloodbath that was about to begin between Ferret Boy and Hermione Granger.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank my reviewers, zam and Q-BriarXJade-Q, you guys rock! I hope you liked this chapter, I've done my best to make it clearer than the last one. 

_Q-BriarXJade-Q: _the bit at the end was in the past. To clarify everything I added info around this chappie, I hope it's easier to understand now! I kind of jump haphazardly between present and different pasts, I don't do it on purpose it's just my Muse is being prissy so… Thank you so much by the way, you were my first reviewer! hugs you

_Zam: _well, as you have read, it isn't exactly a Harry/Hermione fic per se. It does have bits and pieces of H/Hr, but that's all I can give you! This is the point of the fic, in away, that love doesn't last forever and you've just got to move on, explaining therefore why Hermione has children with other people, such as Fred. I'll add some more H/Hr bits if you want in the next chapter though! ' is not doing everything she can to keep her reviewers

Any constructive criticism is welcomed, and flames are accepted.

See you next chapter!

_-FromHereToThere-_


	3. Obvious Rule About Life n3

**Disclaimer:** I am a poor French girl who right now only thinks about getting her Bac. And that's all. So don't sue me or I'll use Largo's Cool Thing on you.

**Summary:** Tired of the old 'I'll love you forever'? This is a story against the odds. Hermione has loved. And loved again. And again. Because loving one person for a lifetime is just too long.

**Warning:** don't expect the usual soul mating happenings in this story. You won't find it.

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_A Lifetime Is Just Too Long_

_By: FromHereToThere_

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_Chapter 3: Obvious rule about life #3 _

Draco Malfoy, smiled furtively at his old enemy, and, as if it was completely normal, sited himself next to Hermione Granger, as Rupert Shacklebolt instructed him to do so. Hermione tried to gently slam the menu on the table and crossed her hands on her lap, glaring straight into her editor's eyes.

"You wish to say something, Hermione?" he asked, smiling softly. That was the problem with this man. He eased with goodness and innocence, but he was too perniciously sneaky behind this façade, and it annoyed anyone who knew him a bit. In a way, he reminded her of Albus Dumbledore.

She cleared her throat in a very Umbridge sort of way and said: "Rupert, you don't except me to write a book with _him_, do you?" she didn't even shot a glance at Malfoy, nor did she leave any time for Rupert to reply before she continued, "Well, I can't start for the following two weeks anyways, I have the children" she lied.

"No you don't, you had them these past two weeks," Rupert answered, his eyes piercing through her skull, a faint smile gracing his features.

Murder sounded really good right now. She could take out her wand very quickly, Avada Rupert, then Malfoy, and obliviate herself to finish. How good did that sound?

"How do you even know about these things Shacklebolt, what is you dark secret?" she plead, resting her forehead into her left hand. A growing headache was spreading through her right now. Kill! Flee! Was resonating in her mind. But no, she was a courageous little Gryffindor so she had to be strong.

"I am your editor, and foremost, your boss, I am _supposed_ to know things like that. And please Hermione, don't start ranting about teenage grudges Draco and you used to hold against each other at school. This is real life, this is business, his knowledge allied with yours will make such a book I am even planning on proposing them to Beauxbatons Academy as well as Hogwarts"

Hermione's gaze turned to Malfoy. She had to admit that he had grown into somewhat of a handsome man. His pale complexion gave him a rather appealing charm, his blonde hair was cut short which accentuated the softness of his face. However, his gray eyes seemed to belong to a corpse more than anything else, the little flame that was supposed to flicker there was not burning in his orbs.

"Granger," he acknowledged.

"Malfoy," she replied.

"So, you have children"

"Haven't been reading Witch Weekly?"

"Just because I am not immersed in books all the time doesn't mean I would end up sinking any lower than should be allowed to by reading _that_…"

"Too bad then, you don't know about my love life, how tragic"

"You have a _love_ life? With who? A rodent, I should assume"

"Never new you were interested, _ferret_"

"Know-it-all"

"Slytherin"

"I'll take that as a compliment"

"Are you two quite done?" asked Rupert, an eyebrow raised in a question mark above his right eye. "Because I would like to start talking business here"

Reluctantly, Hermione and Draco both turned their attention away from each other and on to Shacklebolt. He started on a long soliloquy about how the book was going to be written: the first part should concentrate on the Dark Arts as it was, and still is, used against people, describing its effects and consequences. To each spell or potion or enchantment, the book should offer a detailed counter-curse, or any way to 'defend' yourself from it effectively.

When he was finished, Hermione couldn't repress a snort. "Don't tell me how to do my job Rupert, I know it perfectly well," she said, glaring at him.

"As do I," said Malfoy also, his face indifferent.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Malfoy's comment and sent him a questioning gaze. "You of all people know this job? The one of writing schoolbooks Malfoy? I'd pay to see that"

"No, my job is to defend myself against the Dark Arts, so therefore, I know it perfectly well. Whatever you might think, Granger, admit it, you know nothing about me"

His sentence was met with a silence. Hermione was lost in her thoughts trying to figure out whatever he could mean by that. Draco just had this annoying smirk on, and was nonchalantly gazing around. After a whole flight of angels had passed, Rupert finally got up. "I guess I will have to leave you two here to get better acquainted –is I could say so– to each other. Now if you'll excuse me"

After some glaring at Rupert's departing figure, Hermione sighed deeply, annoyance in her voice. "Great, this is just great. Am in one of my favorite restaurants and I can't even enjoy it because I'm stuck here with you Malfoy," she spat at him, bitterness dripping from her words.

"For once I think that we agree, even in my worst nightmares would I have thought I'd end up trapped in here with you. How delightful this meal is going to be… Annoying little man, isn't he?"

"Yes, Rupert can be like that. Sticking potion, was it? He is too smart to use a charm to which we could have only uttered the counter curse. Merlin how I can despise that man sometimes! It'll last what, 2 hours?"

"I would think so, yes"

"We better order then," she said, resigned, and clapped loudly her fingers at a passing by garçon.

**Two hours later-**

"An invisibility cloak? Is that how it happened? I guess I have to admit, albeit reluctantly mind you, that Pothead had more resources up his sleeves than I thought… Darn him…" he sulked, almost slamming his defenseless piece of cheese onto a chunk of bread.

"Uh uh!" she acquiesced, smiling wickedly. "Come on Malfoy, admit that you Slytherins thought we were saints just because we were in Gryffindor. But it didn't prevent us to be sneaky and mischievous whenever we wanted to"

He smirked, before saying, "You did take advantage of your position as favorites in the eyes of that old fool, didn't you? Guess we would have done the same were we in your place…" he admitted.

"You did do the same, if I recall, with…" she, however, did not have time to finish her sentence as a biping noise was heard from her bag. She took out her pager and, brows furrowed, read whatever it was saying. "Shit" she cursed under her breath.

She threw the device back into her handbag, and got up, her leg a little wobbly, as she had been sitting non-stop for the past two hours. "Something has happened, I got to go. I'll contact you to do a first meeting about the beginning of the draft for the book. I do confess I didn't have such a terrible time with you Malfoy"

"Wish I could say the same to you Granger, but unfortunately…" he smirked at her.

"Oh, for once in your life, shut up…" she replied, rolling her eyes. She hurried to the exit, worry written all over her features. She found the closest public phone and slammed the door open, throwing herself on the phone. She dialed the numbers so quickly she had to do it three times before she finally got it right.

"Pick up the phone, Harry, pick up the damn phone» she muttered, chewing on her lower lip.

The familiar snap was heard as a voice bounced in the receiver: "Yes?"

"HARRY!" Hermione yelled. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Paul? He didn't fall off his broom again, did he? I told you countless times not to let him ride it at night, but NO, you never listen to me! Is he…"

"Calm down! This has nothing to do with Paul, who is safe and sound in his bed," The Boy Who Lived said quickly to stop his friend from going on again, "it's actually Arthur I contacted you about. Seamus never came to pick him up. I was wondering if you wanted me to keep him, or you would prefer to have him back?"

Relief rushed over her like a wave, before being suddenly replaced by another feeling, anger, fury you could say it was. She sighed, and tears started welling up in her eyes as the thoughts came rushing back to her.

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Everything Harry hadn't been, Seamus was. Everything Hermione had loved in Harry and had hoped to be in Seamus as well, wasn't. But at first she didn't care about that. She wanted the passion and the unexpected. She had got it. And now… Now, everything was different. 

"Hermione, you have to tell him you are pregnant," Ginny Weasley said to her, still gently patting her back.

Hermione held back a sob, "Ginny, what is wrong with me?"

Her friend gently squeezed her shoulder, her eyes full of concern, "Nothing is wrong with you, I personally think you are suffering from what I call the 'Prince Charming' syndrome"

She laughed bitterly at this, "the what?"

"Prince Charming syndrome. You fall in love with someone, thinking that he is perfect for you –and he is, as he meets what you desire the most at that time. And then, when that time has passed, you go in search of the next Prince Charming that you will love. Quite simple really. Every woman suffers from it, some are just too blinded to realize they are," Ginevra Weasley stated, matter-of-factly.

Since Hermione made no attempt to speak back at her, she continued on her train of thought, "You always have been strong-willed, as have I, which explains why we both haven't settled down. After the War, you wanted peace and quiet and love: you got it with Harry. You realized afterwards it was killing you so you went somewhere else. You got the action back because you wanted it at that time. And now, once again, you want something else…"

"I never expected things to happen this way. Who would have thought Seamus would end up being…" unfortunately (or not), she was cut off immediately by her friend.

"Such an asshole? Honey, all men are. The bloody fool is lucky he didn't get beat up to a pulp by my brothers and Harry. I mean look at you, you're a mess!" she exclaimed, her voice shaking with contained anger. She looked upon the crouched figure of her friend. She indeed was a mess, her hair was standing up in every direction on the top of her head, her eyes red from crying, her make-up smeared all over her face.

"It's not his fault," she sobbed back, not sure if she actually meant it or not.

"If it wasn't his fault, you wouldn't be here crying your eyes out because of him," Ginny shot back.

"I…" she tried to speak, but the words couldn't seem to get out. Tears formed once again in her eyes, ready to fall. She sniffed loudly, whimpering as she did so.

Ginny took her friend in her arms and gently rocked her back and forth. "You're going to be okay. But I still believe you should tell him it's his. And maybe allow him some time to see his son, it might change him, you never know. How far are you?"

"A month or two, I don't know. Oh Merlin's beard I'm such an idiot!" she yelled, suddenly standing up, startling ever Ginny. "A sobbing idiot. I already have a son. Another child is nothing that I can't take care of. I don't care what happens to you Seamus" she screamed to no one in particular, "I don't care! Drink yourself to death as long as you don't take me down with you!"

She paused for a second, her eyes glistening with a flicker of folly in them. "O let me not be mad, sweet heaven! Keep me in temper; I would not be mad!" she quoted, throwing her head backwards, staring at the ceiling.

She yelled. A yell that held no coherent words, just a yell. Evacuating the frustration of what had happened. The time she had met Seamus in that pub. The weeks that they had spent together, filled mostly with drinks and semen. The time he had punched her. The time when had discovered she was pregnant.

"I will talk to him, Ginny. Thank you for being such a good friend," Hermione said, smiling weakly at the redhead who was sitting on the floor, her back to the wall.

"Will you… will you keep the baby?" she asked, her eyes still round at her friend's strange behavior.

"I don't know –yet, I might…" she trailed off, too unsure to answer. "I need to go now or else I'll never be able to build me the courage to do so. I'll floo you later this evening," she said, taking her wand out and disapparating before Ginny could say anything else at her.

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**Author's Note:** THANK YOU ALL FOR READING THIS STORY PEOPLE! I love all of you. Reviews make my day, I swear. Once again, this story is rather weird, I know. It is meant to be, just bear with me, please. Sorry if this chapter took a long time to come I was quite busy with my end of trimester papers. 

I do not hate Seamus Finnigan. Not at all, he is my favorite secondary character, but for plot purposes I chose him instead of Oliver Wood, who was my first choice.

"_O let me not be mad, sweet heaven keep me in temper: I would not be mad!" _A cookie to who guesses where I got that…!

R+R!

_Zam: well you have guessed right… Am a Draco/Hermione fan after all…!_

_Ruinsul: that is the best compliment I could get for this story, that it's different! And here you got what happened with Seamus!_

_Chantal-j.t: yes she has…! I love it when people refer to my stories as cool… so thanks, I love you!  
_

_Allie Hitchcock: what with Hitchcock hon? Anyways, if I want Hermione to bring up the receiver to her hear, she will bring it to her hear, damn it! ;)_


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